


Kunstmärchen

by oneiriad



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 00:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneiriad/pseuds/oneiriad
Summary: Once upon a time there was a Cold Gun and a Heat Gun.





	Kunstmärchen

Once upon a time there was a Cold Gun and a Heat Gun. They were a matched pair and complemented each other nicely.

A long time ago, they vaguely remembered, they had been born from the hands of the Tinkerer, and had since passed through the darkness of being un-owned to finally settle where they belonged, with their Wielders.

Their Wielders were fierce and brave and the Heat Gun and the Cold Gun fought with them and took great pride in their use. “Look,” the Cold Gun would say, “look how beautifully I iced that road, so the Enemy stumbled over his own feet and landed on his ass,” and “Look,” the heat gun would reply, “look how I chased him right unto your ice. Look how I melted that safe while you were icing the Enemy all up.”

“We make a good team,” the Heat Gun and the Cold Gun would agree.

But sometimes, just sometimes, the Wielders would lose a fight. Not often, you understand, but these things happen.

The Cold Gun and the Heat Gun would find themselves in the dark of the Property Room, sharing a shelf. It was nice and cozy there. Sometimes, some of the other Things on the shelves would get rowdy, but the Heat Gun and the Cold Gun were in a class entirely of their own and none dared mess with them.

One day they were rudely shoved to the side of their shelf and a box with a new Thing was put next to them.

It was a Ring, oh so very tiny and not quite elegant, with a zigzag pattern on the front. It didn’t look like the sort of Ring that would end up spending time in a Property Room, and yet the Cold Gun and the Heat Gun couldn’t help but feel that there was something familiar about it.

“Have we met before?” the Heat Gun asked, looming over the Ring.

“No,” squeaked the Ring. “Absolutely not. My Wie… Wearer is innocent, you see. He’s a nice upstanding citizen and this is all a misunderstanding.”

“You’d be surprised how many Things in here feel the same way,” said the Cold Gun. “Still - very n _ice_ to meet you.” (And the Heat Gun groaned, because even after years of being the Cold Gun’s perfect match, some things were still hard to bear.)

The Cold Gun and the Heat Gun hadn’t really planned to do anything about the Ring - after all, they were a team, and the Ring was just a silly interloper and would soon be out of their lives, one way or the other. If they occasionally spoke with it, well, it was on the same shelf. These things happen.

Just like earthquakes do.

Every Thing on the shelves went tumbling down to the floor, getting all messed up among one another.

The Cold Gun and the Heat Gun landed side by side, as was only right. The Ring, on the other hand - the Ring landed surrounded by other Things: a Gun, a Boomerang, a funny-looking Jack In The Box.

“Well, hello there,” the other Things said, looming and smirking down at the Ring. “What’s a pretty Ring like you doing in a place like this? Don’t you know you look like Loot just waiting to happen?”

“Oy, get away from him!” the Heat Gun shouted. The Cold Gun didn’t speak, just fired at the Jack In The Box, encasing it in glittering ice.

Once the excitement died down, the Ring rolled to settle between the Cold Gun and the Heat Gun.

“This doesn’t mean we like you,” the Heat Gun grumbled.

“Of course not,” the Ring replied.

A short while later, the door to the Property Room was pulled open and the lights went on. Hands grasped the Cold Gun and the Heat Gun by the handles and all was right with the world.

“That’s funny,” said the Heat Gun’s Wielder. “It looks like some sort of ring got stuck behind the fuel tank.”

“Will it still work?” asked the Cold Gun’s Wielder.

“Sure.”

“Then leave it for after we’ve gotten out of here.”

But for every step they took, the Ring got more agitated and wriggled against the Heat Gun.

“Please! You are carrying me away from my Wielder! Please! I need to get back to him!”

“Wielder, is it now?” the Cold Gun drawled. “That’s funny. I could have sworn you claimed he was your Wearer earlier.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, just - please!”

“Fine,” growled the Heat Gun. “Which way do we need to go.”

“Back and to the left,” said the Ring - and the Heat Gun fired.

“Hey, watch it,” shouted the Cold Gun’s Wielder. “Damnit, Mick, what did you do that for? Now we need to go through the Meta Wing to get out!”

“I didn’t! The silly ring must be interfering with the firing mechanism. Give me a moment, will you?”

“No time, the guards are coming. Move!”

And so they ran through the hallways until the Ring started wriggling excitedly and calling “There! Right there! The next cell!” and the Heat Gun fired once more.

“Damnit, Mick!”

“Snart?” came a voice from the cell, slurred and confused.

“What the - Scarlet? What the hell are you doing here? Wait - did they drug you?”

“Yeah. They - they figured out I’m some sort of meta - and the new warden doesn’t trust the dampeners, so he likes to keep us all drugged up too.”

The Ring’s Wielder swayed as he stumbled to the cell door and nearly collapsed against it. The Ring wriggled excitedly and fell to the floor and rolled straight up and nudged him.

“Hey, that’s the Ring Jay gave me for Christmas. Where did that come from?”

“Never mind that,” the Heat Gun’s Wielder growled. “Wanna get out of here, Red?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be - that’d be nice,” the Ring’s Wielder answered, slowly, putting the Ring back on his finger.

“Right, back away from the door, Barry.”

It only took a few careful shots from the Cold Gun and Heat Gun - showing off, naturally, because it was surprisingly nice to have someone other than each other to show off to - before they could break the cell door open and pick up the Ring’s Wielder.

“Right, let’s blow this joint.”

And they all lived happily to the end of their days.


End file.
